


Ouroboros

by ailurish



Category: School 2013
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-18 00:19:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1408003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ailurish/pseuds/ailurish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the night before Namsoon leaves for army service, and Heungsoo has some things he wants to make sure he knows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ouroboros

Namsoon thinks that his father having showed up sober is the most astonishing thing that is going to happen to him all night. He’s going to be wrong, but he’s not thinking that far ahead right now. He has a lot of practice keeping himself in the present.

Heungsoo is with him now anyway. They all eat at the tea table and the house feels like his father had never been more than a transient part of it at all.

Heungsoo gives his father a respectful ninety-degree bow as his father is leaving. It's unnecessary and Namsoon suspects he doesn't deserve it, but there’s no point in trying to convince Heungsoo otherwise.

He catches his eye with a pointed raise of his brow, but doesn’t say anything.

Namsoon heads back inside to start emptying half-eaten bowls of rice and dirty dishes into the sink, his mind drifted already to the comic he’s thinking of reading tonight. Sleep is not something he’s counting on. He shuts his eyes for a second, letting his mind drift back to school –his flat wooden desktop, head pillowed on his arm, Kang’s lecture lulling him to sleep. That’ll do it. He’ll just have to pretend.

Heungsoo clears his throat and Namsoon turns around at the sink. He looks like he has something to say, but then his mouth curls up into his mocking grin and he just says, “Don’t fall asleep in training camp.”

Namsoon leans back against the sink, pursing his lips to stop himself from grinning back. It ruins his careful nonchalance. “Why shouldn’t I? I already know how to fight,” he says, and he feigns a punch to Heungsoo’s defenseless oblique. Heungsoo sidesteps it easily; they both know that Namsoon hasn’t hit anyone since Oh Jung Ho took the full force of his anger in year two.

Heungsoo counterattacks anyway with an open palm to the side of Namsoon’s head, but withholds the blow at the last second; shuffles his fingers into Namsoon’s hair instead until it stands out in all directions.

Namsoon is halfway to a grin when he notices that Heungsoo has gone still, his expression gone flat. His hand is still tangled in Namsoon’s hair. “You’re going to look stupid when they cut it,” he says, but his voice is low and there’s no trace of amusement, no real teasing in his tone. His hand moves slow as he lets it graze the soft skin below Namsoon's ear, steady; down further to rest his fingertips at the side of his jaw. It brings everything inside Namsoon’s body to a standstill. He knows that the slow breaths echoing between them can't be his, because all the air in Namsoon’s body has stopped circulating, too.

“Namsoon-ah,” Heungsoo says. It’s nearly inaudible, but he hears it. “You have to pay attention. I won’t be able to keep my promise.” Namsoon doesn’t know if he sees him move or if he feels it. Heungsoo is so close that Namsoon can see the slight shift of his eyes – down, fixated in that way he has; he sees the flicker of a half-blink and Heungsoo’s gaze settles.

Namsoon tries to read him but it’s like he’s been rewritten into a language he can’t understand. He’s surprised when Heungsoo moves in closer, still staring at the blurred shape of his cheek when Heungsoo settles his mouth over his, and finally he understands.

When Heungsoo moves back, it’s only far enough to breathe. “Will you?”

It takes a moment for Namsoon to remember what he had been saying. “I’ll be careful,” he promises.

Heungsoo’s free hand touches lightly at his ribcage. “I love you,” he says, so low that Namsoon thinks he might have imagined it. “I love you.” Namsoon wraps his hand around Heungsoo’s fingers where they rest against the side of his face and kisses him, just as slight, just as warm, eyes closed this time.

He doesn’t read any comics that night. Heungsoo doesn’t leave and Namsoon doesn’t expect him to. He rarely goes home these days, anyway.

-

Neither of them sleep, they just breathe together in the quiet. Through darkness, Namsoon can just make out the white shape of Heungsoo’s t-shirt. His fingers are resting close enough to brush against the cloth, to feel the lingering warmth from his skin. He knows that Heungsoo’s eyes are closed, but also that he’s awake. When the light shifts and the night thinks about turning to grey dawn, Namsoon whispers, “Me too.” Swallows. “I love you.”

Heungsoo opens his eyes. He rolls onto his side and Namsoon ducks his head, scoots closer. His arm presses along Heungsoo’s side now, head tucked against his shoulder. He stares into the muted blur of the space between them, feeling time like a physical presence, moving closer and closer. They both manage to doze through the sunrise.

-

The morning is like one of the poems Teacher Jung used to have them read in class. _“What is the atmosphere of the poem?” _, she would always say. Heungsoo walks to the bus with him and it's almost like they’re heading to school, except that today he leaves Heungsoo on the sidewalk. Namsoon finds a seat near the back of the bus and glances at Heungsoo out the window.__

__And he’s poetry, too: a still expression, hands in his pockets like always. He doesn’t watch as the bus pulls away like they do in films. There’s no point, because he already knows that Heungsoo will stand right there until the bus is out of sight._ _

__So Namsoon turns away from the window in the back of the near empty bus as it pulls away. He had thought, all that time ago, that he would be the one standing at the bus stop, watching everything pull away from him. A fate he had avoided; a price they had both paid for it. And still here they are, the way water always ends up at the sea._ _

___Did you forget? _he thinks, pressing a finger lightly, curiously, to his lower lip. _I have strong bones.___ _ _


End file.
